


Find My Sweet Serenity

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Armor, Blood, Falling In Love, Firefly inspired, Fluff and Angst, For Science!, For a Friend, Gun Violence, Hand wavy science, Happy Ending, Illegal Activities, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prosthesis, Rebellion, Romance, Star Wars inspired, Worldbuilding, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-19 23:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12420390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "The man shook his head. 'No, actually, it's what you want. Heard you need a mechanic?'Bucky sat forward. 'You're a mechanic? Are you any good?'The mechanic widened his eyes in fake affront, the irises flashing gold for a split-second as they adjusted. 'Am I good? Only the damned best this side of the galaxy!"Bucky just wanted to make his rendezvous with Steve, but ended up with a mechanic, an even bigger price on his head, a new arm and a true love. Not necessarily in that order.





	Find My Sweet Serenity

**Author's Note:**

> For Jimjam, I blame YOU entirely, you damned Star Wars fan.

_I can't forgive myself,_

_Can't bottle up my memories,_

_If only time will tell the truth then_

_Stop explaining,_

_The calm before the swell,_

_I feel it in the melody,_

_I will forget this hell and find my sweet serenity._

Bucky drained the filthy glass, and threw a couple of credits at the bartender. The blue-skinned alien caught them effortlessly, and turned to another customer.

The bar was a dive, dust practically covering the hovering netscreens, and the rickety seats wobbled every time Bucky shifted. The clientele was worse. Nobody in here hadn't broken the law less than three times that week, and the very air stank of low-level thieves and mercenaries. Even so, Bucky was left mostly alone, the aura of danger and death that surrounded him like a cloak warding off any potential harassers. The fact he had drank his way through seven pints of a solid widowmaker without breaking a sweat might have had something to do with it as well. In places like these, lonely drinkers were always dangerous.

He had fucked up good this time.

His ship, his poor beautiful ship  _Winter Soldat_ that had endured so much with him, had saved his hide so often, had just stuttered and failed mid-leap to Korria, systems freezing. She had barely managed to limp to this hellhole of a planet, near crashing into the terrible tavern he now drank in. The only mechanic in permanent residence on the sandy planet, the bartender informed him in a series of guttural growls, was a Child Of Light. A member of the ridiculous purist cult, that advocated unplugging from technology, going back to nature. All very nice, but not helpful when you had a very necessary cybernetic arm and several implants.

So Bucky was determinedly drinking his way through his stash of credits, resigned to missing his rendezvous on Korria with Steve. The only person even vaguely happy about this was the bartender, and only because he was making a small fortune from Bucky's misery.

The tattered flap of leather serving as a door flapped up behind Bucky, and even if he didn't have enhanced senses, he would have noticed the reaction to the newcomer. Directly ahead, the bartender glanced up, then broke into something resembling a smile, sliding out from behind the bar to greet the new arrival. Mildly curious, Bucky turned, and his eyes widened.

The bartender was deep in conversation with a tired-looking human (or at least humanoid) who despite his obvious exhaustion, was extraordinarily handsome. His hair was short, a lighter brown than Bucky's own. His eyes were obviously augmented, the tell-tale gold iris sparkling in the sudden light change before changing to a natural chocolate brown. He was surprisingly lacking in height, but his baggy brown clothes revealed hints of muscles and hidden strength. He had a well-maintained goatee, cut in a geometric style, and his eyebrows raised as the bartender babbled excitedly to him, too fast for Bucky to keep up. They were speaking Standard, but it was mixed in with words Bucky didn't recognise. The bartender gestured enthusiastically to Bucky, and the stranger's eyes landed directly on him. Shit. What did they want? Was he an undercover Inquisitor?

Then the handsome man started to make his way across the bar towards him, and Bucky tensed. His vibranium hand reached, unbidden, for the knife tucked into his leather armour. He'd left his blasters on the  _Winter Soldat._ Double shit.

The man sat down across the warped faux-wood table, an easy grin on his face. To Bucky's surprise, his teeth were perfectly white, unlike the yellow daggers most of the other clientele sported proudly. This was a hard-working man, as evidenced by the calluses and scattered scars on his hands, but still someone who took the time to look after themselves, as shown by the facial hair and teeth. Interesting. A walking contradiction around here.

"Hey, tall, dark, and handsome," the man began, eyes sparkling with amusement. Bucky glared. Usually, this was enough to send anyone running for the hills, but not this guy. If anything, he seemed encouraged. Bucky would have been impressed if he hadn't been so damn pissed. He settled for not talking and glaring some more.

"So, you're the silent type, eh? Right, that's cool. I can work with that," the man said, cracking his knuckles. Bucky resisted the urge to growl. Something about the man in front of him was putting every danger sense Bucky had on high alert, which appeared to be a totally absurd conclusion. The man was tiny, for fuck's sake, and he wasn't concealing any weapons underneath that jacket. But something about the man's arrogant grin was too knowing, too confident. But also...too sorrowful. This man...had seen things, Bucky realised, shock flashing through him.

Bucky realised, with mild embarrassment, the man was waiting expectantly for him to speak. The unplanned humiliation gave a harshness to his time that he didn't intend as he snapped, "What do you want?"

The man shook his head. "No, actually, it's what  _you_ want. Heard you need a mechanic?"

Bucky sat forward, frown if not vanishing, at least growing less pronounced. "You're a mechanic? Are you any good?"

The mechanic widened his eyes in fake affront, the irises flashing gold for a split-second as they adjusted. "Am I any good? Only the damned best this side of the galaxy!"

"And so modest, too," Bucky found himself muttering before he could stop himself, but it was worth it for the surprised look of delight in the other man's face. "So you  _do_ have feelings. Good. I was worried I was talking to a charging 'bot. It wouldn't be the first time."

The man gazed forlornly off into the distance in a melodramatic manner for a moment, and Bucky took the opportunity to school his features out of the small smile they had been slipping into. Shit, was this guy real?

The mechanic cheered up within seconds, bouncing back to face Bucky. "So! Payment. It's your lucky day, oh tall, dark and handsome. I don't want any credits for the job."

Bucky, who had been relaxing slightly as the man went on, stiffened, warning bells going off. "What do you want?"

The man held his hands up in mock-surrender. "Woah, cool your jets there, buddy. I want safe passage to the Korrian system. That's it!"

Bucky arched an eyebrow suspiciously. "Huh. Funny coincidence. I'm headed there as well."

The reasons for his suspicions were abundantly clear. There were thousands of known systems in the galaxies. The likelihood that a complete stranger would be headed to the same one as Bucky _reeked_ of a trap. You could not get more suspicious than if you went around wearing coal black armour and a silver mask - the Inquisitor uniform.

He saw realisation dawn on the mechanic's face, and he visibly slumped a little in his seat. "Ah. I can see how that would compromise my trustworthiness. The fact I didn't know, and am obviously surprised by this fact mean nothing?"

Bucky shook his head almost regretfully. "You could just be really good actor," he pointed out. He couldn't help feeling a little bad for the disappointed, but resigned look on the mechanic's face. He hadn't seemed like a bad guy, but then, neither did mafia and slavers at first.

"Son of a three-headed Hydra," the mechanic muttered, then got up to leave. "Alright. See ya, tall, dark 'n handsome."

He sauntered off across over to the crowded bar, ordering a Nebula's Classic 'Space Beer'. Steve loved those, Bucky found himself thinking wistfully. They had been introduced all the way back in the second era, when mankind believed itself alone in the galaxy, but had somehow, bizarrely, survived the test of time. Of course, technically all alcoholic beverages were banned in establishments without a licence, but nobody, not even Inquisitors, listened to that rule.

Bucky stood to leave, chucking a final few credits at the bartender, who accepted them with bad grace. Whoops. Bucky had pissed him off by refusing his friend, who was now chugging back the bottle with the kind of determination one associated with professionals. Similar to Bucky, a few hours earlier.

He _was_ desperate...

Bucky stood for a minute, dithering, which he knew from experience looked absolutely terrible when you were his size and had an intimidating metal arm, when a burly cyborg burst in, his leg plating scraping slightly in his haste.

"Neo pas Inquisitor do chai!" he hissed, panicked. Bucky's implant helpfully translated. [An Inquisitor's ship has landed!] 

The mechanic sat bolt upright, a look of anxiety coming over his face. He spat out something foreign to the bartender, who nodded grimly, then bolted into a door at the back of the bar, that Bucky probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been trained to do such a thing. The door slammed shut, then locked.

Conversation in the bar halted for a moment, then continued, gradually becoming more natural the longer they remained uninterrupted. It seemed like the brutal law enforcement of the galaxies were after someone else this time, Bucky assumed. He released a small breath of relief. A short while later, a different man came in, confirming that the Inquisitors were gone, but they had taken a couple of children and a woman. A man chatting happily near Bucky stiffened, terrified, and sprinted out. Bucky watched him go, feeling nothing but pity and sorrow for his loss.

The Inquisition had been set up by the Council back in the late third era, as a means of combating the Rebellion. The Inquisition was a collection of lethal individuals, drilled and trained into working in groups. It was not uncommon for a particularly skilled Rebel fighter to be 'reprogrammed' into a flawless Inquisitor, although the higher-ups were always independent volunteers. The Council argued that the Inquisitors ensured a sense of peace and safety in the crime-ridden galaxy. The Rebellion argued it was awfully hard to feel peaceful and safe when an Inquisitor was beating you and your family to death for doing something they didn't like. The Inquisition, much like the Council, Bucky thought, started out innocently enough, but much like corruption had overtaken the Council, cruel sadists had worked their way into the Inquisitors. Indeed, they were known for never letting a prisoner go willingly, and their brainwashing techniques always worked. Nobody had ever broken free of the conditioning process.  ~~Two. Only two were ever determined enough, willing to sacrifice everything.~~

It appeared the mechanic wasn't all he seemed, if he reacted like that to news of the Inquisitors. Perhaps an escaped criminal?

The door cautiously unlocked, and the mechanic poked his head around it, waving cheerfully to Bucky as he noticed him. Bucky resisted the urge to wave back. No taking on potential rebels or war criminals, he told himself firmly. No matter how handsome he is, it's not worth it if you end up with an army of Inquisitors on your tail.

Bucky was about to leave the bar, when a hand caught his shoulder. Bucky whirled, knife out, only to be stopped by the sight of the mechanic, who eyed the blade warily. 

"If you change your mind, ask Yinsen for Tony," the mechanic said, nodding to the bartender. "I won't be able to leave the planet until a new pilot arrives, so I'll still be here." He winked, eye shuttering closed for a second.

Bucky sighed, but nodded. "You're real pushy, ain't ya?"

The mechanic - Tony - grinned roguishly. "That's what they tell me. Anyway, remember my deal. No credits needed, just another passenger to put up with on your ship."

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he smiled a little as he agreed to consider it. Something about Tony was so naturally charming, it was hard to resist letting his guard down, even very slightly. Tony let go of him, and spun back to the bartender, Yinsen. "Yinsen, my friend, another glass of your finest!"

Yinsen gave what could only be described as an affectionate sigh, and that was the last Bucky saw of the odd pair as the leather flap swung down.

Bucky stared at the bar for a few minutes, heart beating irrationally fast. He shook his head, and headed up through the pitiful town to where his ship was docked. A female with green scaly skin tried to grab his arm, slurring obscenities, but Bucky sidestepped her quickly, and she stumbled past him.

His communicator rang out with an irritated beeping, and Bucky summoned it to his visual cortex with a series of blinks. Steve's worried face appeared, and Bucky tapped the small implant on his ear that could easily have been mistaken for an earring. His implants were...more invasive them most, but much as he despised them, he had to admit they had their uses. Sometimes. Now that he had full control of them, at least.

_"Buck! How are you?"_

Bucky rolled his eyes, speaking low. There was always the risk of looking crazy (crazier then he already was, anyway) in public when he used implants to connect to his communicator. "I'm fine, Stevie. Why you callin' now? I thought you were staying in Korria for a couple o' days."

Bucky's old accent always came out around Steve. He didn't know if it was annoying or endearing, but he supposed it was natural. They'd been friends as long as either could remember, born in the war-torn cities of Terria. Sometimes, Bucky missed those days, under blue skies and a frail yellow sun. He knew Steve did, but Bucky adored travelling from system to system, never restricted to just one planet. If he had the choice, he'd never go back.

 _"That was the plan, Buck, but...things came up. I'm gonna have to leave far sooner than I'd hoped. I'm really sorry, but there's nothing I can do."_ Steve looked guilty and apologetic. They hadn't seen each other for almost half a Standard year, Steve being kept busy by his mysterious job that he wouldn't tell Bucky about. Originally, Bucky had worried, fearing his absolute idiot of a pal had gotten tangled up in one of the galaxy's many mafias, but Steve had assured him that it was nothing of the sort. Besides, Steve could never do something like that.

"That's okay, punk, I geddit. I don't think I was gonna be able to make it anyway," Bucky confessed. Steve looked confused.  _"Why not?"_

Bucky sighed heavily. "Winter's down. She gave out mid-leap. And of course, the only permanent mechanic in this shithole is a Child Of Light."

Steve winced.  _"Sorry, Buck. I know how you love that ship of yours. Where are you right now? I might be able to send someone over."_

Bucky snorted. "Arimla's poorest moon, by the looks of it. I swear, Stevie, the best thing you can say 'bout here is that the alcohol's decent. Oh, and the view ain't bad," he finished, thinking of the mechanic who approached him in the bar. There was a pause, and then Steve exhaled.  _"Buck, what poor dame or fella are you eyeing up now?"_

Bucky released a low chuckle. "You know me too well, punk."

 ~~~~_"'Course I do, jerk. Who are you feeling up this time?"_

"Why, Steve!" Bucky said, faking shock. Then he snorted. "Nobody, I promise, just this mechanic looks...damn."

 _"Huh? But I thought the place's mechanic was a Child Of Light?"_ Steve asked, obviously bewildered.  _"I'm surprised he's letting you near enough to ogle. Isn't that kind weird, by the way? A technophobic mechanic?"_

"Yeah, I guess it is, but he's not the guy I mean. I met another mechanic here at the bar; he's a real looker."

 _"What's wrong with him fixing up_ Winter Soldat,  _then? He charges too much?"_

Bucky shook his head, even though Steve couldn't see him. The visual connection was a one-sided thing. "Nothing at all, actually. He just said he wanted a ride to Korria."

 _"And you didn't say yes?! Buck, that is one hell of a bargain, even I know that!"_ Steve looked incredulous and exasperated, and Bucky wanted to smack his head against a wall at his naïve best friend. "Steve, out of all the galaxy, he wants to go directly to the one place I want to go? And that isn't a tiny bit suspicious?"

 _"It's a coincidence, sure, Buck, but these things happen! I know you're more paranoid -"_ Bucky growled, low in his throat, and Steve quickly changed his line.  _"More cautious nowadays, and I don't blame you, really, I don't. But honestly, this mechanic guy doesn't sound malicious. Did he do something to put you off?"_

Bucky clenched his fists. Steve was treating him like he was fragile, delicate, and he was _not._ If he hadn't proven that by now, he never would.

But then Steve's words sunk in, and Bucky forced himself to relax slowly. "No. H-he seemed pretty nice, actually."

There was a pause, and then Steve asked kindly,  _"What's really bothering you, Buck?"_

Bucky slumped his shoulders. Even without visual input, Steve always knew when he was hurting. It was one of the reasons he loved the punk more dearly then he would his own brother. "It's a long trip to Korria, Stevie. And I just...I don't want to..."

 _"Lose control?"_ Steve supplied gently, and Bucky bit his lip, ashamed. "Yes. Yes, Steve, I don't want to snap on some innocent man who only comes up to my chin while trapped in a confined ship in the middle of space!"

 _"You won't, Buck,"_ Steve promised, and his voice was so painfully genuine, it almost hurt. Bucky wanted to scream his fear, his nightmare, that he'd black out and wake up to his hands wrapped around a bloody throat, and it would be  _his fault._

_"Listen, Bucky, I wasn't going to tell you, I didn't want to get your hopes up, but I've talked to a friend of mine. They reckon that they have something that might work with getting rid of...stuff."_

Bucky's eyes widened comically, forcing the image of Steve's face to adjust slightly. "D'you reckon it'll work?"

Steve scratched the back of his neck, frowning.  _"Well, I don't know much 'bout this kind of thing, as you well know, but this guy - he says he knows a couple of people to help him. And they're geniuses, Buck, so I reckon if it can be done, they'll find a way."_

Something tingly, like a thousand fireflies, lit up inside Bucky's chest, swelling with every excited breath he took. Hope.

"I don't care if I havfta hijack an Inquisitor's ship, I'll be there in time," Bucky promised. Steve laughed.  _"Please don't, Peggy'd never let me hear the end of it. See ya soon, jerk."_

"You too, punk."

The call disconnected with a cheerful 'ping', and Bucky was left feeling oddly alone. He glanced around, blinking quickly to get rid of the afterimage. It was darker then he expected, and while talking, he had navigated his way into a sandy doorway to focus on chatting to Steve. An android was sweeping a doorstep across the worn street, but nobody else was in sight. Bucky emerged from the doorway, and strolled back to the bar. Even if he hadn't memorized the layout of the dismal town, he would have been able to identify the bar by the sheer amount of light and noise. It appeared that night was the most popular time for patrons of the establishment.

A bottle sailed out of the hole serving as a window, and Bucky ducked almost lazily, heading it shatter somewhere behind him. A loud whoop came from inside, and Bucky pushed open the flap quickly.

He's right, it's much busier. A thing that looks like a cross between a beetle and a spider turns and glares at him balefully, but other than that, he's mostly ignored. Bucky scanned the bar with a casual ease, leaning against the cracked wall. Yinsen's turning from demanding customer to customer in a kind of dance, perfected by years of repetition, but Bucky doesn't see the smirking mechanic with the gold eyes anywhere.

He pushed off the wall with a black leather boot, and started sliding purposefully through the intoxicated crowd. Nothing. No sign of Tony.

"Yinsen," Bucky called out. The overwrought bartender turned around politely, then scowled when he saw Bucky. "Back already?" he asked in heavily accented Standard. Bucky nodded, ignoring the other alien's obvious dislike. "Yeah, it's me. Listen, have you seen Tony? He told me to ask for him here if I wanted to take him up on his offer."

The bartender eyed him suspiciously, naturally gentle eyes made unaccountably wary. "Why the change of mind?" he asked, and all of a sudden, his voice is devoid of any accent.

Bucky held his gaze. "I need to get somewhere, quicker than expected."

Yinsen shrugged, tension broken, and pointed to the door the mechanic bolted through earlier. "He's in there."

Bucky nodded his thanks, threw Yinsen a couple of credits (the alien's face darkened) and knocked twice on the door, knowing Yinsen's piercing eyes were fixed firmly on his back, along with some of the less drunken patrons of the bar. The door swung open, and Bucky stepped in without hesitation.

The room was considerably brighter than the bar's main section, but it was no less messy, except in quite a different way. Wires, spare parts, and precision tools scattered every available surface, and impressively advanced netscreens rotated in mid-air. A peculiar metal briefcase rested in the corner, silver shining by the luminous netscreens. A cup of warm liquid rested beside a screwdriver. Bucky took a couple of cautious steps, trying not to stand in any of the nests of wires on the floor. He called out, softly, so as not to startle the twitchy mechanic, "Hello?"

It didn't work.

There was a yelp from the back of the room, and a wrench went flying towards Bucky's face, thrown with startling accuracy. Bucky's reflexes took control, and he bent over backwards, keeping perfect balance. Then there was another noise, louder this time, and then a perilously wobbling pile of...something, tilted and flew everywhere, burying the unfortunate mechanic in metal. Bucky stared and resisted the urge to laugh, then waded through junk to the back to help. "Um...are you alright?"

"Just peachy, tall, dark, an' handsome," muttered the pile, sounding somewhat muffled."Just peachy."

Bucky snorted, chest heaving with repressed laughter as he began to pull chunks of hammered iron and mad tangles of wires off Tony. The mechanic emerged slowly, his curly brown hair being the first to show poking through the pile. Then a pair of chocolate eyes staring at him, and after moving enough debris of his chest, the slight human was able to pull himself up, using Bucky's metal arm to do so.

"My knight in shining armour," Tony said, batting his eyelids at Bucky. "Seriously, thanks, that hurt. So, you change your mind?"

Bucky blinked, a little taken aback at the man's rapid-fire speech, shot out like bullets from a second-era gun. "Uh, yeah. How fast d'you reckon you'll be able to get it done?"

Tony scratched his beard. "Don't know. Depends on what's wrong with it. If parts need replacing, 'bout...a standard day or so?"

Bucky couldn't help the incredulous frown. " _A day?!_ What, do you not sleep?"

"Not usually," the mechanic replied simply. "Well, not when I'm working on something," he amended after a pause, giving Bucky a cheeky smile. "Introductions! I never got any. So, my name's Tony, obviously, and this is Dummy."

He pointed to a robot arm that had previously shown no sign of life, until the mechanic gestured to it. Bucky heard a soft whirr, and then the robot chirruped, tilting his 'head' in an eerily human manner. "Dummy, say hello." The robot spun around politely, then retreated to the far corner of the little room. "Sorry, he's a little shy," Tony apologised, still gazing at the quirky bot. "What's your name? I can't keep calling my client 'tall, dark and handsome'. I mean, unless you're into the kind of thing," he added, giving Bucky a lascivious wink. Bucky raised an eyebrow, fighting a goofy laugh. Two could play at that game.

"Name's Bucky, doll," Bucky replied, with a lazily flirtatious grin of his own. Tony blinked, and then a broad smile spread across his face. "Oh, this'll be fun."

Bucky couldn't help hoping it would. Looking at the mechanic with the eyes that flashed gold, he somehow thought it just might be.

"So, where's your ship?"

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, please. Oh, and comments! Pretty please?
> 
>  
> 
> Song at the start is of 'Serenity', by Prismo. As always, I own nothing.


End file.
